Keeping the Stars Apart: 18-5
by Writless
Summary: Extended smut chapter for 'Keeping the Stars Apart'. Master/OC


**A/N: Hello there, this is an extended scene to chapter 18 of 'Keeping the Stars Apart'. It is SMUT. If you're reading this without reading the story itself, it probably won't make enormous amounts of sense. Read it anyway and tell me what you think. Because I said so.**

**But I really _really_ REALLY would appreciate honest feedback on this chapter. So if you can let me know how it went, I would love you forever and name my children after you. (No. That's a lie. Please don't hold me to that.)**

**And again, I would like to thank Tyantha, silverserpent08, and Sarbrook for reading and reviewing my drafts. Without them, I would have looked like a TOTAL FREAKING IDIOT AND DIED OF SHAME AND GENERAL EMBARRASSMENT. So thank you guys, because you're fantastic. And I wasn't ready to die. **

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"Yes," his hot breath against my ear caused me to shiver. My heart was pounding so loud in my head I was surprised I could hear him at all. At this point, even he could probably hear it, along with everyone back on Earth. "I'm a terrible, _terrible_ man." He murmured in that low voice of his, the one that set all kinds of things tingling and drove me up the walls. I let out a shaky breath as he proceeded to move his attentions down to my throat. I leaned back automatically, desperate to give him better access. His tongue darted out as he pressed a number of long burning kisses against my sensitive skin. His hands stayed busy too, one was still tight on my back, pinning me against him. The other had shifted down to my waist, his thumb tracing a small continuous circle just above my navel. It had to be some kind of time lord ninja move because he was making it very hard to remember how to breathe.

Confident that I'd been more permanently silenced, he returned to my mouth, forcing his lips against mine as he took control. I might have tried being a further pain in his ass if I'd been capable of thinking anything beyond what his mouth and hands were doing to my insides. Or if I had any kind of self-control at all.

I didn't.

Both of my hands were in his hair now, holding firmly as I responded with my own unrestrained frenzy.

"No. I'm sorry." He stopped, nearly loosing the grip I had. "This won't do."

"W-_what_?" I choked out. What the hell had changed so suddenly? Was it that weird birthmark that looked kind of like Texas? Had he see that already?

"This shirt." He said, frowning at my sweater. "It's _utterly_ in the way." I started to protest, but he pulled it up over my head and threw it aside before I could. Not that I was, you know, _actually_ going to protest, but I really didn't appreciate the smug grin he was wearing at my expense. He also didn't seem too worried about any consequences as he wrapped his arms back around me, his mouth roaming across my newly exposed skin. His lips traced a cooling line along the strap of my bra and dipped down to my chest. He was _teasing_ me. Teasing me, and he damn well knew it.

"Whoa there," I said throatily. "Quid pro quo."

"Pardon me?" He muttered, one hand massaging my breast as his thumb dragged against the nipple and I had to suck in a sharp breath. God he was making it hard to think. Or respond at all. Actually, I was having no trouble _responding_. It was just responding to the _question_ that I was having issues with.

"You heard me," I finally managed. "Quid pro quo." He sucked gently at the skin on my collarbone a moment before raising his head, frowning from beneath his dark curls. He opened his mouth to speak but the hand on my back was suddenly pinching, unhooking the clasps on my bra before I even knew what he was aiming for. Crafty bastard.

"Do you even know what that means?" Amusement glittered in his eyes as soon as he realized he'd been successful. If I lowered my hands from his neck now, the straps were going to slide down from my shoulders and leave me desperately behind on the game of strip poker we'd suddenly started to play. Someone had _definitely_ taught him that trick, and if it had been Jack, I was going to _kill_ him.

"I think it's Latin for 'take off your fucking shirt'." It's possible I was getting a little impatient.

"Oh," he tutted. "Hardly polite language. And if I refuse?" He was just _so_ pleased with himself, wasn't he? Well I'd been harboring this little fantasy for weeks, so in an act of revenge I grabbed the front of his shirt with both hands and yanked it violently apart. The sprinkle of buttons scattering across the floor was incredibly satisfying and I forced the sleeves down over his shoulders. There. _That_ could be a lesson for him. I backed up enough so the bra slid down my arms and dropped to the floor, acting like that had been the plan all along.

Yeah. I got moves.

Instead of getting the reaction I was looking for, he seemed a bit…distracted. His bottom lip curled in against his tongue as he stared. The longer he stood there, the more I started to regret _all_ of my life choices, including this most recent one. Heat rose to my cheeks and I raised my arms to cover myself but he stopped me with a touch. His eyes were definitely on mine when I finally met his gaze again.

"How dare you." He said softly, peeling himself out of the remains of his shirt. Grabbing my wrist, he pulled me against him again. His skin was cool, but at this point a blowtorch would probably be a few degrees lower than I was. "That was my favorite shirt. You're going to pay _dearly_ for that."

"Like to see you try and make me." I smirked. This was probably one of those 'be careful what you wish for' scenarios, but I decided I was willing to risk it.

"I will," he promised with a dangerous grin, his teeth nipping once at the tender skin just below my jaw. I ran my fingers across his firm chest and back around his neck while his hands came up behind me, holding me against his hips. There was definitely something persistent and _hard _pressing up against my inner thigh now. Difficult to be pleased at my small victory when he was being such a distracting problem though.

His mouth left a hot trail across my collarbone and I dragged my tongue against the pale skin of his throat. I could taste the faint sheen of sweat that had started to form at the base of his neck, the flavor, mixing with the heady smell of whatever was in his hair only made me want him more. He caught my mouth again, and one of his hands returned to my breast, stroking. I bit my lip as he lowered his mouth to it, his hot breath burning against my skin. He twirled his tongue in a tight circle before sucking gently.

He repeated the move on the opposite side, this time his tongue flicking firmly against my nipple and my brain short-circuited somewhere along the way. He only stopped his movements when I got a firmer grip on his head and pulled him back up. Still looking impeccably smug. Good for him, let him _think_ he's winning. I had some tricks of my own.

I brought my lips hungrily against his own and let my tongue explore the inside of his mouth, my hand sliding down his chest, raking against the thin line of dark hair that appeared just above the waist of his pants. I continued down, going until I found something satisfyingly hard and squeezed. His breath caught in his throat as I dragged my palm up the length of him, gently teasing the tip through the fabric before doing it again. His breathing became more labored as he pressed his forehead against my own, unable to focus on anything but the feeling of my hand against him. I felt powerful, and incredibly dangerous. A wicked grin stretched across my face as I started to slip my fingers beneath the top of his trousers.

"That's enough." He spoke gruffly, grabbing my wrist to stop me. Then he hoisted me into the air, my legs straddling his waist. For a moment, he met my eyes and they were predatory in a way that made my insides ache. His mouth returned to my chest, raising goose bumps as he explored warm skin with lips and tongue. His hand found its way beneath my thigh as an excuse to keep me aloft, but also to drag his fingers insistently down my middle. The thin cotton of the skirt offered little protection from the friction and I squirmed in his arms as we began to move away from the door. I fell backward onto the bed and his full weight pinned me down. He slowly raised his head and I kissed him with a desperate intensity as I writhed up against his body. He indulged me for a moment before retreating, lips traveling down between my breasts, then my stomach, pausing to admire that I was an outie, with his mouth. My hands tangled in his hair as his fingers dipped below the elastic of my skirt, air blowing against my scalding skin as my breath came in tight bursts.

"You won't be needing these." He said, tugging and taking both skirt and panties off in one swift movement. He liked to get down to business, I could appreciate that. My whole body shivered as his palms slowly caressed my hips. A pair of fingers slid between my legs, pressing tight up against me and stroking in small firm circles. He moved with an agonizing slowness that, I could only assume, meant he was trying to kill me.

"Quid…quid-" My eyelids fluttered as I struggled to get his attention. More than happy to let him continue, but if he got much further, I was going to forget how to speak entirely. But he didn't seemed to be interested in listening anymore. I gave up and instead just focused on the building sensation in my stomach as his fingers began to slide more quickly. I hissed in a sharp breath as he slid a finger into me, working it in and out slowly, his thumb moving to replace the missing fingers. It was getting harder to hold onto without giving him a sudden unexpected bald spot, so I moved my hands to the sheets, fingers curling tight as he began to move faster again.

A warmth began to spread from my belly outward. He added a second finger to the assault, causing me to rise up to meet him. His lips brushed against my pelvic bone as I did and my brain started to go into sensory overload. My hips moved on their own as they kept pace with his hand, every fiber of my being now tied directly to the inch of skin that quivered just beneath his thumb.

"I'm sorry," he tried to sound noncommittal, but his voice was rough. "You were saying something?" His hand stopped moving long enough to give some of my mental cognition back. What a gentleman. Too bad now all I wanted to tell him was to never stop. I shot him a dark look, opening my mouth to give him a sharp rebuke but it died on my lips when I felt his hot breath against the inside of my thigh. Instead of giving me a chance to speak, he withdrew his hand and took a long, deliberately slow stroke of his tongue between my legs. He sucked gently at my clit, circling again with his tongue before thrusting his two fingers back inside. My whole back arched as some kind of embarrassing animal sound was ripped from my throat.

_FuckChristFuck_. He seemed to realize that if he touched me again, all of my skin was going to melt off. As I slumped back down on the bed, he moved to kiss the outside of my thigh, a faint pink scar still visible from our run-in with the Unwritten.

"You," catching your breath was probably easier when there wasn't a sadistic bastard between your legs. "Are an _asshole_."

His fingers curled inside of me, sending a jolt up my spine. "You think so?"

I could hear the grin without even looking at him. "_Yes_," I hissed between my teeth as his thumb rubbed against me again, my head planted firmly against the mattress.

"Well," he said, slowly withdrawing. "If you're sure. I'm certain I can find something else to occupy my time. Perhaps in the library."

"Don't you fucking _dare_." I grabbed his hand as he rose to his knees. I had _killed _people for less. Well, no. I hadn't. But I might consider starting _now_. He made an amused noise as he pressed his lips against my stomach again, steadily working back toward my chest. I looked down to see his icy eyes watching me with an intensity that had made all those other occasions seem like a joke. He made his way, achingly slowly, up my throat and along my jaw.

"Forgive me, that was rude. Is there something you wanted?" He asked as he pulled back, his gaze holding me trapped.

"No." I said sharply. Maybe 'calm and collected' Fitz might have been intimidated by the way he towered above me. But libido driven Fitz, or 'it's been over six god damn months' Fitz, was having _none_ of that bullshit. "Something I _need_. You. Right now. No, like _yesterday._" It was incredibly freeing just to say it, which was hilarious because I'd only finally mustered the courage to do it after I was completely stripped down, and _very_ much at his mercy. Not that I was complaining.

"Oh?" He asked with a ghost of a smile. "And what could you possibly _need_ me for?" He was being distracting again with his warm lips against my throat and his hair brushing my cheek. Trying to make it impossible for me to respond.

I turned my head slightly to press my mouth against his ear and gripped the back of his neck. "I need you to _fuck_ me, Koschei." I whispered. Exhilarated that I'd said it. Both his name and the command, even managed to make it sound a little _confident_. He pulled back haltingly and my smug grin slowly melted away as I saw his hardened eyes no longer glittered with mischief. Maybe I had gone a little _too_ bold there? His jaw tightened and he pulled my hands from his neck, letting them fall limply to my sides.

Well. _That_ probably wasn't a good sign.

_Shit_. My first foray into dirty talk and I find the one guy who doesn't care for it? Using his name had probably been stupid. Double _shit_. Boldness is for _cool_ people. And the movies. Not me. Smooth Fitz. Real goddamn _smooth_.

"I'm not going to hurt you." Whatever I'd been expecting him to say, well…that hadn't been it. He was deadly serious too, which made it even more confusing. What, was he packing some kind of freak tumor between his legs? Libido starting to fizzle into a nosedive over here, regardless.

"I…I know?" He watched me a moment longer, somehow the exchange seemed important to him, but hell if I knew _why_. Now didn't really seem like the time to ask because, ideally, I had _plans._

Fortunately, he looked satisfied with my answer and he took my hands again, now pinning them above my head. Then he kissed me with an astonishing fury that stole my breath away and suggested maybe he _had_ appreciated the boldness of my slightly explicit request. He sucked greedily at my lips as I rose up, trying to grind my body against him, which was made slightly more difficult by his insistence on keeping my arms trapped. I would have been more than happy to keep them there, but I imagined that might ruin some of the fun.

"Then I'm happy to oblige." He finally growled into my hair. _God_ that voice of his could do things to me even if his tongue _wasn't_ gliding along the ridge of my ear. His weight shifted as he reached down with one hand to remove the last layers of clothing that was separating me from the promised land. I dragged my mouth against his chest and just grazed his nipple which earned a ragged breath from him as his belt rattled somewhere off the end of the bed.

While the rest of his body had been cool to the touch, his thighs were impossibly hot on my skin. He repositioned himself between my legs, pushing them wider apart and I writhed beneath him. My hips were determined to keep as much friction between us as physically possible. He started to move against me, slowly; building up the fire in my belly that had nearly been extinguished only a moment ago. His free hand slid up along my thigh as he rocked, gradually increasing the pressure as he pressed me harder and harder against the bed, my body slick and ready as it glided along the length of him. I nipped and sucked against his neck in an effort to torture him just as much as he had me. His muscles were firm beneath his damp skin as he strained to maintain focus, a rapid pulse throbbing at the nape of his neck. He continued to wind me up further as I was reduced to just panting against his chest, unable to think about anything but moving my hips in time with his own, the hardness of him still only teasing at my entrance.

"Please," I begged him, knowing full well that's what he wanted. He did seem grateful that I'd finally cracked because when he rocked his hips forward again, I felt him press hard up against me. The first inch slid in easily before he stopped and withdrew it again, repeating the motion and driving further in. My breathing became hitched as he retreated once more, and with a final thrust, buried himself inside me. He froze, holding his body stiff for a moment as he let out a slow shuddering breath into my shoulder. My thighs trembled as my body adjusted to accommodate his girth and I could feel myself throbbing tightly around him.

His lips kissed just below my ear and he murmured "Okay?" It's possible he was asking because somewhere along the line I had forgotten to keep breathing. I sucked in a shaky breath and nodded.

"Abso-_fucking_-lutely." I ground up against him hard, in case my answer hadn't been reassuring enough. With that, he began to move. Working to guide himself slowly in and out in long careful strokes. Each time our hips met, he bucked against me, forcing a short moan from my throat and the hot coil of need in my stomach to flutter wildly. God we absolutely should have done this sooner, _much _sooner. And many more times after this, if at all possible.

I forced my eyes open as I looked up and saw that, in the only instance I'd ever been able to see what he was thinking, his thoughts seemed to mirror my own. That's good, because at this point I wasn't sure I was interested in giving him much of a choice in the matter. His hand came up behind my neck, caressing my hair as he took my mouth with his own, his tongue exploring savagely as we gradually picked up the rhythm.

Tingling warmth began to ripple through my limbs like liquid fire and I sucked against his tongue, eager to reciprocate the same sensations in him. Each touch against my burning skin sent a shock of pleasure through me and his free hand slithered across my body, squeezing my breast just short of making me cry out and then massaging gently as he rolled the nipple between two fingers. He may have had the upper hand here, and it was hard to tell if I was even close to driving him mad. He was like a metronome, each thrust of his was careful and measured, despite my own movements rapidly becoming more and more erratic. His breathing though, was shallow and uneven, and I took that to be a hopeful sign. I redoubled my efforts to devour any flesh brought close enough to my lips to be bit or sucked.

Things began to blur as he shifted his angle, driving against the inside of me in a way that had my mouth hanging open wide. Small noises were starting to choke out from my throat that I had no control over. He must have noticed, because he stopped completely for a moment. I thought he was just trying to frustrate me again and considered going on a violent cursing streak followed by murder. You know, _after_ I was done with him.

But apparently, he _was_ interested in survival because he wasn't finished. He lifted my knee up to my chest, spreading me wider than before. When he rammed up inside me again, it struck right against the same spot, only _harder_. My eyes rolled back in my head as all thoughts of cussing him out fled, along with any other kind of thoughts.

As he resumed his pounding, I could only focus on the sensations building tighter and tighter in my core, threatening to tear me apart. Sweat beaded on my brow and I took in gasping breaths trying to cool myself as my arms squirmed beneath his powerful grip. My own attempts to meet his thrusts became feebler, my muscles growing more rigid as he rode me harder and harder against the bed.

"Oh," I whispered as the repeated motions were quickly driving me past the point of return. "Oh _christ_." My fists clenched as I let out an unintelligible noise, bringing my other thigh up around his waist in an effort to keep him driving directly into the spot that was causing everything to burn so fantastically. "Don't-" my voice hitched and he nearly stopped again. "Don't stop!" I added quickly and he found my mouth again, swallowing the groans that were coming from my throat, fueling him faster and harder still as I just tried my best to hold on.

My mouth stretched wide again as I felt the pressure twisting tighter in my belly, my breathing grew shorter and shorter as everything in my body tensed in on itself. Then finally, with a heavy grunt from him, the last string holding me together snapped and my whole body constricted as the air seized in my chest. I choked out a groan, and everything released all at once. The tingling that had started just bellow my gut pulsed and throbbed outward, rippling through my unsteady muscles. I jerked, straining against his grip until I had no more strength and my body turned to putty. Pleasure ripped through my shaky limbs in wave after wave. I sucked in another cool lungful of air as my head drooped against his shoulder.

His breath was hot on my cheek as he continued to drive against me, now his trusts were desperate and uneven, as though he had only been waiting for me to release. My lips clenched around him and he grunted as he buried himself deeply one last time, stretching me to my limits for a moment that extended for an achingly long time. Then he finally collapsed against me. My skin vibrated as I lay there, trying to regain some of my senses while my limbs remembered how to be _limbs_. I slid my wrists out from his, now loose, grip and brought them around his back, kissing his damp forehead. My arms stayed possessively around his shoulders, despite their desire to flop back like wet noodles. He was _mine_. I had him back and there was no way I was going to let him go. Especially not after it had been such a god damn nightmare getting to this point.

A small voice reminded me that I didn't have him back, not _really_. This wasn't the same man.

Shame consumed me for a full second before I realized I damned well _knew_ that he wasn't the same man, and I was just looking for an excuse to feel _bad_ about this. I _didn't_ feel bad about this, and I wasn't going to mind-fuck myself into thinking that way. This was a good thing and I was going to feel _good_ about it. No, I was going to feel fucking _fantastic_ about it, and there was nothing my shitty inner demons could do about that.

"Now," he said in a throaty voice. "I'll give you a moment to rest. _Then_ I'm going to make you sorry for that shirt."


End file.
